


Red Life

by stardropdream



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Blood, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 10:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first it is fast, hungry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Life

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ March 24, 2012.

  
  
  
It only takes a moment. As soon as their eyes meet, Fuuma finds himself shoved up against the wall and Kamui arching up to catch his mouth with his. For Kamui, it is almost a gentle gesture, something soft and soothing in comparison to the cutting harshness of his day-to-day living. In reality it is a bruising kiss, hard and fast and sudden in its ferocity. Not that Fuuma minds this. He never has. He invites the hard bite of Kamui’s mouth, the sharp angles as they press together. He even enjoys the hard jab of the rock up against his back.   
  
As quickly as Kamui’s there, he’s gone again. He regards Fuuma with that hard glint in his eye that Fuuma loves. Fuuma smiles with uncharacteristic warmth, for just a moment. It even reaches his eyes, pressing up against the corners. He arches his eyebrows, silently, almost mockingly—inviting Kamui’s next move.   
  
Kamui hisses out something that Fuuma doesn’t quite catch. But before he can question it, he’s being kissed again, and there are fangs against his bottom lip. He doesn’t have the moment to contemplate the pleasurable scrape of teeth against his lip and tongue because then there’s the copper-sharp taste of blood as Kamui’s teeth push down and in. It’s a jab of pain and then Fuuma’s mouth is full of blood. But Kamui’s tongue is there, drinking it all, sweeping against him.   
  
Fuuma grips at Kamui’s hips, drags him closer—always closer. Kamui drinks and Fuuma grasps to him, as if he’ll drift away. He wavers slightly, breathless, feeling the drops of blood drift away with the practiced ease of Kamui’s tongue against his mouth.   
  
At first it is hurried, hungry. The blood flows. But steadily the strokes of his tongue become more languid. Eased. Patient. Kamui’s mouth lingers against his, sucks Fuuma’s bottom lip as if in apology.  
  
Fuuma forgives him, of course.


End file.
